[FIC] Cool at the Crossroad (NC-17) for Penguinfluffo_0
Gift Type: Fic
Title: Cool at the Crossroad
Recipient: penguinfluffo_0
Author: inksheddings
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: Through all episodes.
Summary: Dean’s taking all of this with him.
A/N: Title stolen from a quote of Cassandra Wilson’s. Beta’d by a most wonderful and thorough Goddess, to be named after reveals. I diverted slightly from your prompt list, penguinfluffo_0, but I truly hope you enjoy the results. It was a pleasure writing this for you.
Cool at the Crossroad
Dean can’t believe they‘re doing this. He can’t believe he has his mouth wrapped around Castiel’s cock and two fingers pushing slowly in and out of his ass. Even more incredible, however, and what‘s turning Dean on more than the anticipation of replacing his fingers with his own cock, is that Cas is shamelessly thrusting into Dean’s mouth and onto his fingers as if he simply cannot get enough.
Dean doesn’t really understand how Cas’s relationship with Jimmy’s body works-though he has no compunctions about who he‘s fucking; this is all Cas. He doesn’t seem to feel pain, but Dean has seen him breathing pretty hard after a couple of nasty demon fights. He also doesn’t seem to need to eat or drink, but he could if he wanted to. He’s actually developed a curiosity about taste and texture after sitting in countless diners with Dean and Sam and watching them devour an unhealthy number of cheeseburgers, tuna melts, and-of course-slices of pie.
But Castiel like this-moaning Dean’s name and clutching his hair as if it‘s the only thing in the world he has left to hold onto-isn’t quite the same as Castiel dipping a spoon into a bowl of chili, licking the edges experimentally before slowly placing the entire bite into his mouth, and closing his eyes, as if that would help him get a better handle on the whole experience of simply eating food.
Yeah, okay, so there was definitely something sensual about watching Cas eat, but Dean was never in any danger of coming because of it. Right now, however, as Dean pries Cas’s fingers from his hair and licks his way up his body, he is slightly worried that this’ll be over as soon as he buries himself inside. That’s not how he wants it. He wants it to last, even more for Cas than for himself. Eager, eager Cas, who’s already pulling his knees toward his chest and angling his lower body so his ass is pressed against Dean’s groin, and God damn if it’s not the hottest thing ever.
Dean kisses him. He doesn’t bother with gentle whatsoever, just goes straight for tongue and teeth as he reaches between their bodies and positions himself. Cas starts whispering as Dean pushes in, but Dean can’t make out the words. He can’t tell if Cas is praying or uttering nonsense, or if it’s a little bit of both.
Cas is tight, even with the slow and methodical preparation Dean made sure to give him. Yeah, he’s tight and warm and slick all around Dean. He’s all the things sure to tempt Dean into praying because he’s kinda lost it, himself, at this point. He must have, because he’s not only fucking an Angel of the Lord but his friend. That, more than anything, makes it all the more sacred and obscene. It’s definitely enough to make Dean pray for it to last.
Dean takes a shuddering breath when he’s finally seated as far as he can go. His balls are against Cas’s ass and he’s more than ready to start moving, but something keeps him still. He looks at Cas, at his wide open eyes and, as ridiculous as it sounds, Dean knows what he needs to do.
“Is this okay? You sure?”
Cas doesn’t exactly smile, but he closes his eyes for a second and bites his lower lip. “You’re asking me this now, Dean?”
Dean laughs, because he’s always thought he had pretty good timing when it came to sex, but Cas has a definite point here.
“I just want … need to be sure. That you’re sure. That after all the cosmic jokes played on us, well, that this isn’t one of them.”
Cas reaches up and wipes the sweat off Dean’s brow and runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t promise you that, Dean. Neither of us knows what happens tomorrow. I used to believe … to think that God’s plan would take care of everything.”
“You don’t think that now?”
Castiel moves his hands down Dean’s back until they reach his hips. He pulls Dean forward and sighs, as if disappointed that he can’t bring him even further inside.
“No, Dean, I still believe in God’s plan. Especially His plan for you. I just look at its fruition differently than I used to.” His hold on Dean’s hips tighten, as if he’s trying to leave another set of hand prints to match the one Dean already carries. “Your destiny, Dean, is certain. It is simply that I now know that its certainty is in your own hands. Whatever you choose, Dean-and
whoever you choose-I believe in you and in your decisions.”
Dean doesn’t know how to respond, what to say. So he says nothing. He starts to move. He pulls out until just the tip of his cock is still inside Castiel’s body, and he shoves back in hard. Cas bucks underneath him, throws his head back as far as he can so that Dean’s staring at the line of his throat, and he’d like nothing better than to lean in and lick the sweat he sees forming there. But another urgency is winning out, and that’s the one telling him to throw Cas’s legs over his shoulders and fuck. So he does.
Cas apparently likes Dean’s choice of positions, and he scoots down to make it even easier for Dean to thrust in and out of his body. Dean goes slowly this time, now that he’s sure they’re really doing this and that neither one of them gives a damn about whatever consequences. Cas is mumbling again, and this time Dean’s sure he’s praying because he catches snatches of it laced with Father and heaven and Dean.
Dean is almost ready to pick up the pace-almost-and he leans down and rests his brow against Cas’s. He can feel Cas’s breath on his face, can make out more of his prayer, but it’s the sudden kiss that does him in. Yeah, Cas leans up and pushes his tongue into Dean’s mouth, and Dean moans and really can’t help that his hips start thrusting faster all on their own. It feels so fucking good-Cas tastes good and feels good and his hands are on Dean’s ass, urging him to go faster and deeper. Dean can feel Cas’s cock hard and trapped between their bellies, though maybe trapped is the wrong word because the friction seems to be more than enough for Cas. But as much as Dean wants this to last, wants it to go on forever, he can feel his orgasm building quickly. If he does lose it before Cas, he can always move back down his body, take his cock back in his mouth and suck him off. That thought, along with the feel of Cas suddenly squeezing his ass even tighter around him, is all it takes, and Dean’s coming, closing his eyes against white light that warms his whole body and maybe even his soul. This is Cas. This is his friend. God damn.
Dean keeps thrusting as hard and as fast as he can as he rides out his orgasm. He hears Cas inhale sharply and then shout out, feels the warm wetness spread between their bellies, and Dean opens his eyes to watch him come. He’s actually slightly disappointed that he won’t get to swallow Cas down after all. But it’s not a disappointment that lasts, not with Cas looking like that, like he’s found a version of heaven that only he and Dean occupy.
By the time they both calm down and their heartbeats slow enough so that the combined pounding no longer resonates through Dean’s entire body, Cas’s come is sticky and cold between them. Dean doesn’t really want to move. Doesn’t want to shower or get dressed or leave the motel room. He doesn’t want to do what comes next, even though he knows he will. Sam’s counting on him.
“Dean.”
“Yeah, I know, Cas. I know.”
Dean searches Cas’s eyes, expecting to find them as inscrutable as they used to always be, but they’re not. They’re open in the truest sense of the word. The trust and belief Dean sees there helps him finally pull away, stand up, and reach for his clothes. He doesn’t bother to wipe the come off, let alone take a shower. He’s taking this with him, and if anyone has a problem with it, they can go fuck themselves.
Dean feels breath on the back of his neck as he puts on his jacket. Right now he’s pretty damn happy that Cas never outgrew the whole lack-of-personal-space business. He leans against Cas’s chest and sighs contentedly when Cas wraps his arms around his waist. Cas is still naked, and his skin warms Dean more than anything else he’s ever worn.
“You don’t have to do this, Dean.”
“You’re right. I don’t. “
Dean turns around in Cas’s arms and kisses him again, gently. Cas leans forward for more but pulls back at the last second. Then he smiles. Castiel smiles. It’s a promise and a declaration, and Dean sees not one iota of doubt or fear in the dimples he never realized Cas has. That smile … Dean’s taking that with him, too.
“See you, Cas.”
“I know.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a moment more, and then Dean’s out the door. Cas won’t be far behind, but by then Dean may not be aware of his presence. Dean’s made his choice, after all, and Michael is waiting.
end
Title: Cool at the Crossroad
Recipient: penguinfluffo_0
Author: inksheddings
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: Through all episodes.
Summary: Dean’s taking all of this with him.
A/N: Title stolen from a quote of Cassandra Wilson’s. Beta’d by a most wonderful and thorough Goddess, to be named after reveals. I diverted slightly from your prompt list, penguinfluffo_0, but I truly hope you enjoy the results. It was a pleasure writing this for you.
Cool at the Crossroad
Dean can’t believe they‘re doing this. He can’t believe he has his mouth wrapped around Castiel’s cock and two fingers pushing slowly in and out of his ass. Even more incredible, however, and what‘s turning Dean on more than the anticipation of replacing his fingers with his own cock, is that Cas is shamelessly thrusting into Dean’s mouth and onto his fingers as if he simply cannot get enough.
Dean doesn’t really understand how Cas’s relationship with Jimmy’s body works-though he has no compunctions about who he‘s fucking; this is all Cas. He doesn’t seem to feel pain, but Dean has seen him breathing pretty hard after a couple of nasty demon fights. He also doesn’t seem to need to eat or drink, but he could if he wanted to. He’s actually developed a curiosity about taste and texture after sitting in countless diners with Dean and Sam and watching them devour an unhealthy number of cheeseburgers, tuna melts, and-of course-slices of pie.
But Castiel like this-moaning Dean’s name and clutching his hair as if it‘s the only thing in the world he has left to hold onto-isn’t quite the same as Castiel dipping a spoon into a bowl of chili, licking the edges experimentally before slowly placing the entire bite into his mouth, and closing his eyes, as if that would help him get a better handle on the whole experience of simply eating food.
Yeah, okay, so there was definitely something sensual about watching Cas eat, but Dean was never in any danger of coming because of it. Right now, however, as Dean pries Cas’s fingers from his hair and licks his way up his body, he is slightly worried that this’ll be over as soon as he buries himself inside. That’s not how he wants it. He wants it to last, even more for Cas than for himself. Eager, eager Cas, who’s already pulling his knees toward his chest and angling his lower body so his ass is pressed against Dean’s groin, and God damn if it’s not the hottest thing ever.
Dean kisses him. He doesn’t bother with gentle whatsoever, just goes straight for tongue and teeth as he reaches between their bodies and positions himself. Cas starts whispering as Dean pushes in, but Dean can’t make out the words. He can’t tell if Cas is praying or uttering nonsense, or if it’s a little bit of both.
Cas is tight, even with the slow and methodical preparation Dean made sure to give him. Yeah, he’s tight and warm and slick all around Dean. He’s all the things sure to tempt Dean into praying because he’s kinda lost it, himself, at this point. He must have, because he’s not only fucking an Angel of the Lord but his friend. That, more than anything, makes it all the more sacred and obscene. It’s definitely enough to make Dean pray for it to last.
Dean takes a shuddering breath when he’s finally seated as far as he can go. His balls are against Cas’s ass and he’s more than ready to start moving, but something keeps him still. He looks at Cas, at his wide open eyes and, as ridiculous as it sounds, Dean knows what he needs to do.
“Is this okay? You sure?”
Cas doesn’t exactly smile, but he closes his eyes for a second and bites his lower lip. “You’re asking me this now, Dean?”
Dean laughs, because he’s always thought he had pretty good timing when it came to sex, but Cas has a definite point here.
“I just want … need to be sure. That you’re sure. That after all the cosmic jokes played on us, well, that this isn’t one of them.”
Cas reaches up and wipes the sweat off Dean’s brow and runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t promise you that, Dean. Neither of us knows what happens tomorrow. I used to believe … to think that God’s plan would take care of everything.”
“You don’t think that now?”
Castiel moves his hands down Dean’s back until they reach his hips. He pulls Dean forward and sighs, as if disappointed that he can’t bring him even further inside.
“No, Dean, I still believe in God’s plan. Especially His plan for you. I just look at its fruition differently than I used to.” His hold on Dean’s hips tighten, as if he’s trying to leave another set of hand prints to match the one Dean already carries. “Your destiny, Dean, is certain. It is simply that I now know that its certainty is in your own hands. Whatever you choose, Dean-and
whoever you choose-I believe in you and in your decisions.”
Dean doesn’t know how to respond, what to say. So he says nothing. He starts to move. He pulls out until just the tip of his cock is still inside Castiel’s body, and he shoves back in hard. Cas bucks underneath him, throws his head back as far as he can so that Dean’s staring at the line of his throat, and he’d like nothing better than to lean in and lick the sweat he sees forming there. But another urgency is winning out, and that’s the one telling him to throw Cas’s legs over his shoulders and fuck. So he does.
Cas apparently likes Dean’s choice of positions, and he scoots down to make it even easier for Dean to thrust in and out of his body. Dean goes slowly this time, now that he’s sure they’re really doing this and that neither one of them gives a damn about whatever consequences. Cas is mumbling again, and this time Dean’s sure he’s praying because he catches snatches of it laced with Father and heaven and Dean.
Dean is almost ready to pick up the pace-almost-and he leans down and rests his brow against Cas’s. He can feel Cas’s breath on his face, can make out more of his prayer, but it’s the sudden kiss that does him in. Yeah, Cas leans up and pushes his tongue into Dean’s mouth, and Dean moans and really can’t help that his hips start thrusting faster all on their own. It feels so fucking good-Cas tastes good and feels good and his hands are on Dean’s ass, urging him to go faster and deeper. Dean can feel Cas’s cock hard and trapped between their bellies, though maybe trapped is the wrong word because the friction seems to be more than enough for Cas. But as much as Dean wants this to last, wants it to go on forever, he can feel his orgasm building quickly. If he does lose it before Cas, he can always move back down his body, take his cock back in his mouth and suck him off. That thought, along with the feel of Cas suddenly squeezing his ass even tighter around him, is all it takes, and Dean’s coming, closing his eyes against white light that warms his whole body and maybe even his soul. This is Cas. This is his friend. God damn.
Dean keeps thrusting as hard and as fast as he can as he rides out his orgasm. He hears Cas inhale sharply and then shout out, feels the warm wetness spread between their bellies, and Dean opens his eyes to watch him come. He’s actually slightly disappointed that he won’t get to swallow Cas down after all. But it’s not a disappointment that lasts, not with Cas looking like that, like he’s found a version of heaven that only he and Dean occupy.
By the time they both calm down and their heartbeats slow enough so that the combined pounding no longer resonates through Dean’s entire body, Cas’s come is sticky and cold between them. Dean doesn’t really want to move. Doesn’t want to shower or get dressed or leave the motel room. He doesn’t want to do what comes next, even though he knows he will. Sam’s counting on him.
“Dean.”
“Yeah, I know, Cas. I know.”
Dean searches Cas’s eyes, expecting to find them as inscrutable as they used to always be, but they’re not. They’re open in the truest sense of the word. The trust and belief Dean sees there helps him finally pull away, stand up, and reach for his clothes. He doesn’t bother to wipe the come off, let alone take a shower. He’s taking this with him, and if anyone has a problem with it, they can go fuck themselves.
Dean feels breath on the back of his neck as he puts on his jacket. Right now he’s pretty damn happy that Cas never outgrew the whole lack-of-personal-space business. He leans against Cas’s chest and sighs contentedly when Cas wraps his arms around his waist. Cas is still naked, and his skin warms Dean more than anything else he’s ever worn.
“You don’t have to do this, Dean.”
“You’re right. I don’t. “
Dean turns around in Cas’s arms and kisses him again, gently. Cas leans forward for more but pulls back at the last second. Then he smiles. Castiel smiles. It’s a promise and a declaration, and Dean sees not one iota of doubt or fear in the dimples he never realized Cas has. That smile … Dean’s taking that with him, too.
“See you, Cas.”
“I know.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a moment more, and then Dean’s out the door. Cas won’t be far behind, but by then Dean may not be aware of his presence. Dean’s made his choice, after all, and Michael is waiting.
end